


Ciel Just Wants To Be Held - Down

by Hawkbringer



Series: Hawkbringer's Greatest Hits [5]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Except in Demon form, Gen, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Master/Servant, Nudity, Platonic BDSM, Safe Sane and Consensual, Teasing, Undressing, Weighted Blanket, mention of past sexual abuse, platonic kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:00:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23283655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkbringer/pseuds/Hawkbringer
Summary: One night at bedtime, Ciel issues an unusual request to his demon butler. He wants to feel Sebastian's body weight, his warmth, his skin. "Hold me down, don't let me up," he orders. Sebastian complies, of course.(Consensual, platonic, being-held-down kink. Extremely satisfying for the touch-starved.)
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis & Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive
Series: Hawkbringer's Greatest Hits [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1357354
Comments: 5
Kudos: 93





	Ciel Just Wants To Be Held - Down

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written April 23rd 2014, or earlier. Minimally edited. I am quite proud of this one! :)

Ciel's hands shake as he fists them against Sebastian's tailcoat. The demon is holding him gently, oh so gently, like he knows Ciel will break. Knows, not thinks. 

Ciel is deposited in his bed, Sebastian hovering over him, murmuring nonsense about the next day and Ciel's blood is pounding in his veins and he cannot make sense of /words/, what kind of super-human abilities does his butler think he /has/?, so he orders Sebastian, loud and clear, "Sebastian. I order you to shut up this instant!" 

A rather comical click is heard as Sebastian's teeth meet behind his hastily-closed lips. Ciel knows the demon is smiling down at him, an utterly mocking smile, and he does not care. His fists against Sebastian's lapels still shake, and he opens them. Curls his fingers around the fabric's edges and pulls. "Come here." Sebastian makes a vaguely questioning sound and the contract flares at his disobedience, so he quiets again. 

Ciel pulls him down, down, onto the bed, on top of Ciel, and Sebastian shifts in Ciel's grip as his feet lose purchase against the ground. Ciel has not ordered him not to move, so he pulls back, toeing off both shoes swiftly, then places one knee beside Ciel's thigh, pressing his chest against the younger boy, pressing his whole body down, down, heavy, against the mattress, and when he stops moving, Ciel sighs. His hands on Sebastian's lapels relax.

"Put your leg down," he mutters, and Sebastian shifts, his whole body rolling against his master's, hard bone, hard muscle, soft skin, rasping cloth... 

"Take that coat off," Ciel orders, voice louder with irritation. Sebastian's smile is too wide, but not mocking. Ciel still doesn't see it.

"Would Young Master like for me to remove /all/ of my clothing, perhaps?" It is a jest, meant to tighten the small body beneath him, a little prick of fear. He knows precisely what injuries his otherworldly powers had to heal when Ciel first became his lord and master. He can guess. 

He didn't intend for the body beneath him to /shiver/ slightly, for the little hands to shift, almost against their will, to his neck, curving around it, smoothing down to his shoulders, what little they can reach beneath the cloth. 

"Yes," Ciel decides, pushing at the many layers.

Sebastian smiles, wider and wider. "And shall I undress the young master as well?" His weight is gone, shifting, hips pressing harder as chest rears back, inhumanly flexible arms pulling out of sleeves and buttons undoing themselves with help from only one hand. 

Sebastian's chest is so smooth to the touch, and Ciel's hands ache to turn to fists again, but he keeps them open, smoothing palms across pectorals. They fit best in the ticklish spot right beneath his arms, and he settles them there. 

He considers the equally-jesting question and gooseflesh rises on his arms. "Leave my shirt on," he replies and Sebastian's eyebrows fly upwards, but he complies. 

A hint of /impropriety/, of all things, swirls in his gut as he opens his lord's trousers for no other reason but to let Ciel /feel him/ more completely. He almost laughs at himself, then has to second-guess the seeming powerlessness of the little waif before him, to have instilled in him such a tenacious, if false, sense of morals.

Clothing spread out in a halo around their bodies, (the butler loathe to throw the finicky garments on the floor to wrinkle,) the demon leans down again against his contracted soul, the boy breathing in deeply at the first press of skin, and exhaling as Sebastian's weight returns in full. His every breath presses his bones against Sebastian's, the grind of muscles inconsequential, even soothing. 

"I want you to not move without my orders," he murmurs into Sebastian's hair, as the man drops his head into the space beside his master's, chin against his shoulder. "Stay right where you are. A ragdoll for me." He groans then, feeling Sebastian's arms spread out along his own, his forearms fitting against Ciel's palms, then he finally stills. Sebastian's longer torso leaves his quiescent genitalia nestled between Ciel's thighs, the arches of the boy's feet beside his calves. He is breathing, but very, very still. Their chests press between the layer of fabric and his arms against Ciel's are so warm, Ciel just wants to...

"Wait. Undo my shirt. Just leave it on." 

Sebastian hefts his weight to one side, his freer arm moving swiftly against Ciel's neck and chest and stomach, pushing the two halves aside. He cannot help the stroking touch of his ungloved hand, black nails shocking against the palest skin. Ciel breathes in against the pressure, moaning, "Harder," and the creature that inhabits his butler is silent, even though the innuendo is obvious, because the boy's pleasure in this simple touch is even more so. 

/How long has it been since he's been touched like this?/ Sebastian wonders, then shrugs internally. He, Sebastian, is becoming the new standard, with every dip and glide, so there is no need to contemplate the past. 

/What was it he said? Never lose sight of your next move?/ With a faint smile, Sebastian rolls fully onto Ciel again, breathing into his belly, pressing soft skin and softer organs against Ciel's own. 

With a wavering inhale, the boy's arms trail meaninglessly up Sebastian's back, settling over his shoulderblades; then, after a moment, he wriggles them beneath Sebastian's arms again. 

"Press me down," he murmurs, wriggling his whole body now. "Keep me down. Don't let me move. Don't let me up!" 

His desperate whispers strike a chord in Sebastian's superfluously-beating heart, and he complies, remembering the times he has manhandled the boy against his wishes, for his own good. /In this case, it may be better to /not/ manhandle him so, for his own good,/ he concedes internally, but of course, he is under orders, whispered and reed-thin as they are, so he does. 

It is not difficult - the boy's struggles are merely for show, and he /is/ tired, and /wants/ to rest. "I will not let you go, my lord." His first words in many minutes. "You are /safe/ here, beneath me. Think only about me. Nothing else matters. Nothing." 

Ciel shivers in response, struggles briefly gaining energy, before collapsing utterly, lax as the ragdoll he had asked Sebastian to be for him. In response, the demon spreads his arms out, briefly intertwining their fingers on the way, and turns his head towards his lord's ear, whispering sweet nothings into it. Sweet, meaningless orders that Ciel follows to the letter. "Yes, like that. So good. Master... Stay like this for me? Only breathing? Pretend you're asleep. I'm always here. Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?" 

Sebastian can feel, through the naked skin of his borrowed body, the boy's pulse race, for just a second. "Yes," he breathes, pulse slowing as he exhales. "Stay right there. Keep me safe."

"Always, my lord," Sebastian whispers in return. On a whim, he presses his lips, so very, very near, against the nearest part of Ciel he can reach, just behind his ear. "I'll always keep you safe." /From everything but me,/ he adds inside his head. He wishes he could put his arms around the boy, /squeeze/ him tight, just for a moment, to show how close he wants Ciel to be, inside his chest, inside his /soul/, but he has been instructed not to move, so he settles for rocking his whole body very slightly, beginning with his hips, letting Ciel feel the /presence/ of him, warm and firm and undeniable, and the moan that bubbles from his throat is testament to his success.

Spurred by it, Sebastian turns his head just as Ciel turns his, and their cheeks overlap before they are stopped by each other's noses. Sebastian can feel the very edge of Ciel's lips against his own and wants so badly to twist his head, move an arm, suckle from this boy's lips as though the commands that spill from them nourish him like the purest springwater. But Ciel does it for him. 

Clumsily, he presses his jaw against Sebastian's, but can't turn his head enough to meet his lips. So the boy settles for rubbing his cheek against his butler's like a cat. /Precisely/ like a cat, and Ciel can feel the breath Sebastian draws in to speak and cuts him off. 

"Nrrgh. Don't say it." Sebastian's exhale is pure amusement, ruffling Ciel's hair and sending goosebumps down his neck. 

"Yes, my lord," he murmurs back. "Mmm," he adds after a moment's pause. "Turn your head the other way," he suggests, and Ciel raises an eyebrow but complies. Sebastian rears up and places his own head on top of Ciel's, the small lip of their ears meeting and Sebastian prides himself on the invention, until Ciel says, "Ngh. That's no good. Slide up. Put your chin on top of my head." 

Disappointed, Sebastian sighs, and does so. His heaving motion presses his arms against Ciel's and the boy wants to moan, the demon can feel it in his chest, but is cut off by the sensation of his small cock being lifted and smoothed up by Sebastian's longer, flaccid length. His balls move and shift sideways, too, beneath the onslaught, and if Ciel knew shame, he would feel it now, in how long his butler's cock is compared to his own, but he knows nothing in this moment but the comfort contact brings, and the discomforting glide of dry skin is alieviated not a second later as Sebastian lifts off his body completely, only to resettle several inches higher. 

Ciel's ear presses against his sternum now, the boy's cock hidden somewhere in the valley of his thighs. The long muscles shift restlessly to accommodate the movement and Ciel's thighs quiver beneath his. 

Ciel shifts his own legs to either side of Sebastian's, pressing his arches against the knob of bone at the other's ankles. 

Sebastian's hands twitch with the need to touch something, light lustful fires under the human's skin with long strokes and gentle scratches, but Ciel quiets him with a single word. 

"/Settle./" 

It /is/ an order, in the tone one would give a fidgeting dog, and Sebastian complies like one.

It's oddly disconcerting, for the demon so well-versed in lust, to be completely powerless to tempt, to be simply a....soothing presence, not an inflaming one. Sebastian /is/ more used to the aggravating flames of passion than the soothing waters of comfort, after all. 

He has the sudden urge to ask if what he's doing is /satisfactory,/ an urge he has not felt in /this/ lord's presence since the very first days, the first week. Before long, Ciel would simply tell him when something was displeasing, and without fail.

"You're thinking too much. My eye is burning. Let it be." 

There are a million and eight things Sebastian has to do before sunrise, but there is no reason they cannot wait a /few/ hours, at least...

So he settles. And Ciel sleeps.


End file.
